Shades of Grey
by Kymaera
Summary: Chapter 3 now up. Something Matt's dad asks gets him thinking about his relationship with Joe. (MattxJoe frienship fic))
1. Confusing Thoughts

Disclaimer: I ~donít~ own Digimon (Duh

Disclaimer: I ~don't~ own Digimon (Duh. If I did I would never have released it to the likes of Jeff Nimoy). I wish I owned Joe and Matt, but no such luck there either *pouts* Just borrowed them to have a little fun *hentai grin*

Author's Notes: Gee, look, Kymaera wrote ~another~ fic with Matt and Joe. Surprise, surprise *rolls eyes* Actually, this one ~is~ a little different. It's still a MattxJyou friendship fic (sort of), but it's from Matt's pov. It's filled with some fun friendship-y moments (or so I've been told), not to mention lots and lots of angst and confusion. *chuckles evilly* 

Warning: Things relating to homosexuality are discussed within. If this sickens/displeases you, feel free to utilize the lovely little "back button" at the top of your browser window. 

Thanks a bunch to Rae-chan and Musouka-san who read through this for me and gave me such lovely comments. And thanks to shim-chan for the friendship that inspired this fic in the first place. 

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Shades of Grey

Chapter 1: Confusing Thoughts

~*~*~*~

The doorbell rings and I look up from my guitar, listening as my dad walks to the front door and pulls it open. I hear him chatting with whoever is standing on the other side, and, figuring it's just some solicitor, I return my attention to my instrument and the melody that has been haunting me these past few weeks. 

The simple movement of my fingers over the metal strings can create such beautiful sounds and I lose myself as the notes build upon each other forming chords and flowing into soothing melodies. As I play I feel myself relax and unwind as the music washes over my body and cleanses my soul. 

It takes me a moment to realize that someone is watching me. I glance up, expecting to see my father's familiar face, and am slightly surprised to find my best friend leaning against the door frame, his eyes closed and a half smile playing on his lips. I place my hands over the strings to quiet them.

"Don't stop," Joe says quietly, opening his eyes, "that was wonderful." I blush slightly and place the instrument beside me on the bed. Joe lets out a disappointed sigh as walks into the room, dropping his ever-present briefcase by the door and taking his customary seat on the swivel chair by my desk. "Thoughtful" he says as he props his feet up on my bed, "and something else" He tilts his head to the side and looks at me critically. "Confusion?" he asks, intrigued. "Confusion about what, Matt?" 

I look away and shrug, unsure how to answer his question. I don't want to think about that right now. When did he get so good at analyzing my music, anyway? I guess he's had a lot of practice

~*~*~*~

I sat near the campfire, watching my little brother sleep and fingering the harmonica in my pocket. Tai had been gone nearly three weeks and everyone had turned to me for leadership. He had made it look so effortless, I had no idea how hard it was going to be, how many little things I would have to consider, how many decisions there were to make on a daily basis. I was quickly coming to realize that I was not cut out to be a leader. It was easy enough for me to come up with reasons why Tai's hair-brained schemes wouldn't work, but to actually come up with the ideas? Definitely not my forte. The stresses of the position were beginning to take their toll on me; I needed to escape, just for a little while, to find myself and to figure out what to do next. 

Leaving TK curled safely between Gabumon and Patamon, I stood and picked my way across the clearing to where Izzy and Tentomon were keeping watch, trying not to disturb any of my sleeping companions. Izzy looked up as I approached, his face shining oddly in the combined glow of computer glare, moon and fire light. 

"Where are you off to?" he asked softly.

"The beach." I should have elaborated, but I didn't feel like explaining that I was having trouble coping with this new leadership role. The whole situation was enough of a blow to my pride. Apparently satisfied with my curt answer, he turned back to his computer and I slipped past him, through the thinning trees, to the waterside.

Settling against a tree trunk, I pulled my harmonica from my pocket and placed it against my lips. A soft melody flowed from the small instrument as I played and I could feel my body relax and my fears and worries start to slip away. 

I heard a twig snap in the woods behind me and I paused, fearing for a moment that it was some night Digimon who had decided I would make a nice snack. Turning cautiously to look over my shoulder, I saw Joe step out of the shadows and grin sheepishly. 

"Geez, Joe, you nearly gave me a heart attack. Shouldn't you be asleep? You have watch in two hours." 

"S sorry," he stammered, blushing slightly. "I couldn't sleep and I was just well, I heard you playing and I was just wondering if you would let me sit with you just to, you know, listen" I could tell he was nervous about asking, but I couldn't understand why he would want to in the first place.

"Well" It might be nice to have some companionship

"Oh okay, sorry to bother you" he said, jumping to conclusions. He turned to leave.

"Wait a minute," I called after him quietly. "I didn't say no'. I was just sure, you can join me."

"Thanks." He settled next to me on the sand, gazing up at the brilliant stars that lit the Digiworld sky. I raised my harmonica to my mouth once more, the soft notes filling the night air. Joe closed his eyes and sighed contentedly.

"You're nervous," he remarked after a while.

"Wha?" I replied, only barely registering the foreign sound as his voice. 

"You're nervous," he repeated, and opened his eyes, gazing up at me. How could he tell?

"No I'm not." I denied automatically. "I mean I just don't usually have an audience, that's all" 

"Oh." He chewed on that for a while. "But don't you usually play for T—"

"He doesn't count."

"I see" A slightly awkward silence descended over us as we stared out across the water, thinking our separate thoughts. 

"How could you tell?" I turned to him, narrowing my eyes slightly. 

"What? Oh. I I'm not sure. I guess I mean" he faltered, although I wasn't sure if it was because he didn't know how to respond, or if he was afraid that I might not like what he was going to say. "I it just always seems like you put so much of yourself into your music, like you get absorbed by it. There's just so much emotion in every note and" He trailed off, avoiding my gaze, his hands running nervously through the sand. 

All I could do was stare at him in shock. I had no idea he was so observant. But then, I couldn't remember when I'd last had anything resembling a conversation with him. Usually, he was busy either being pessimistically sarcastic or trying to break up the latest disagreement between Tai and me. It made me wonder what else he had noticed about our situation. 

"Joe?" I asked hesitantly. "Can I tell you something?" He sat up, bringing his gaze to meet mine in the moonlight. 

"Yeah?" 

"I don't know how to be a leader." I stared at the ground, ashamed at what I'd just admitted, and at the same time, surprisingly relieved that this was no longer something I had to keep bottled up inside. 

"Well, I think you're doing just fine so far."

I shot him a dubious look. "Yeah, right." 

"No, I mean it. Tai and Agumon have been gone for three weeks and, even though we forced leadership on you when you didn't want it, you've managed to keep us together, alive, well fed and well rested. You've kept the decisions democratic, except for the few no one but the leader can make, and the number of fights have actually gone down since Tai left because you and he are no longer bickering. Except for the aches and pains of normal day-to-day life, we're all in pretty good shape." 

"Really?" I asked, still slightly doubtful. He nodded. "Thanks, Joe." 

"Hey, that's what I'm here for." He grinned over at me. "So, what are your plans for tomorrow, O Leader?" 

I shoved him lightly. "Don't call me that it makes me nervous. And as for tomorrow, I don't want to think about that yet." 

"Oh, sorry" he turned away and looked out across the water. "Isn't the moonlight beautiful?"

"Yeah"

~*~*~*~

We ended up talking until Sora came to find Joe for his watch. It was kind of funny, after that night, I didn't worry so much about the decisions I had to make as the temporary (I hoped) leader of the Digidestined. 

Of course, I didn't do as well as Tai would have and the group ended up spread to the four corners of the Digiworld anyway. But, while Joe and I didn't always agree on what was best for the group, we've always shared a special bond of friendship since those few months when we sort of co-lead the Digidestined

"Earth to Matt. Come in Matt." I blink as Joe's voice shakes me from my thoughts. 

"Huh?" I ask intelligently.

"I asked you a question." I stare at him blankly and he sighs. "I figured as much. What were you thinking about anyway?"

"The Digital World and how unnerving it is that you can read my emotions through my music" Joe just grins. "What was your question?" I pick up my guitar from my bed and place it gently on its stand next to the desk. 

"Oh, nothing really important. Just wondering if you were ready for your Biology test that's—what?—this Tuesday?"

I stumble back over to the bed and collapse, burying my head in my arms. "Don't remind me" 

"Oh, it can't be that bad."

"Yes, it can." But before he can interrogate me further on the subject, we're interrupted by a light tapping on the door of my bedroom. "Yeah, dad?" My father pushes the door open and sticks his head inside. 

"I just wanted to let you know that I'm going in to the office." I roll my eyes. That's my dad, the workaholic. 

"Okay. What time'll you be home?" For anyone else this would be an innocent question, but he can't seem to take it at face value. He looks at Joe then back at me, a slightly dubious expression on his face. I know what he's thinking and it irritates me. He asked me about a two weeks ago, during dinner, if Joe and I were "together". I don't know what made him ask. I mean, I know I haven't brought many girls home to meet him, but that has more to do with the fact that I can't find the right girl, than any hair-brained idea that I might be harboring homosexual tendencies. I mean, seriously, can't a guy have a male friend without everyone assuming they're gay?

"I don't know," he finally replies. "Late." I hear the unspoken Why?' and I roll my eyes again. 

"I won't bother to make you dinner then." I try to keep the annoyance from my voice, but I'm not sure that I'm completely successful. 

"That's fine, I'll grab something on my way." He shuts the door behind him and I turn back to Joe, who has been staring out the window. 

"Wanna stay for dinner?" He looks over at me, his eyes lighting up at the prospect. 

"You don't mind?"

"Joe," I admonish lightly, "You know me better than that. Besides, my dad's not going to be here and it'd be nice to have some company." 

"All right, I'll call." He reaches for the phone and quickly dials his number. As he's waiting for someone to pick up, he asks, "What're you having?" 

"Oh, nothing fancy. Probably just stir-fry and rice balls. Is that okay?"

"Yes, that's fine. Everything you cook is—Oh, hi, Jim? Is mom there? Hi mom, Matt wanted to know if I could stay for dinner. Stir-fry and rice balls. Yes, mom, I know. Thanks. I'll be home around nine. Bye." 

"So," I say as he replaces the phone in the cradle, "anything new with Emiko?" He blushes at the name of the girl he's currently infatuated with. As he relates his day's encounters with her, I can't help but think back to my dad's question. I'm still not sure why he asked it. I mean, sure, I'm closer to Joe than I am to any of my other guy friends, even Tai and Izzy, who were in the digital world with us, and sure, whenever Joe comes over we usually go into my room to talk, there's nothing wrong with that, is there? We just want a little privacy

Watching him as he's talking, I can see how he could be considered attractive, though. His fine-boned, well-proportioned features; his slender build; the intelligent twinkle in his dark eyes; the little hand gestures that he makes when he's talking; the way he subconsciously pushes his glasses up his nose ever other sentence; the way his lips

Woah, wait a minute, back up. His lips'? My mind reels, confused. I'm his best friend; we've known each other for years. What the hell am I doing thinking about his lips? Or any other part of him for that matter? It disturbs me slightly that I could have continued this list and I quickly push the thoughts from my head.

I like girls. I think I've even loved a couple. Heaven knows I've dated plenty. I can't count the number of times Tai and TK have teased me for dating so many girls during the course of my high school career. I can almost hear Tai's voice, So who's the freshman of the week?' I narrow my eyes slightly at the memory. They both think that my relationships have been short-lived affairs with immature girls. They seem to so conveniently forget the three months that Sora and I dated, especially now that she and Tai have been together for almost five months. They seem happy together and I'm happy for them. Sora's a nice girl, but she just really wasn't my type. 

But then, neither were any of the other girls I dated. So maybe I've been dating the wrong girls. Or maybe I focus on Joe once more. He's laughing at some memory, his eyes bright and his cheeks slightly flushed. I chuckle with him, although I didn't catch what was so funny. He has a great smile. 

I stop that thought in its tracks. Okay, sure, maybe it's not a bad thing that he has a nice smile or graceful hands or—I refuse to let myself continue. I mean, I'm artistic, I can appreciate things for their aesthetic value. It's like my brother. I can see how someone might think that TK is very attractive, but that's something that I'm proud of about my little brother. Just because I can recognize that he's a handsome person doesn't mean that I want to that's disgusting.

So it's okay if I can see that Joe is attractive. Its not like I think about it all the time or wonder what it would be like to have him play his slender fingers over my bare skin—

"Matt?" I start at the sound of his voice and refocus my gaze on him. "You really are being thoughtful today," he jokes. "What were you thinking about this time? You were just staring off into space with a slight smile on your face. Daydreaming about someone?" 

It takes me a few moments to organize my thoughts enough to respond even semi-coherently. "What was I thinking about?" I repeat, still slightly unsettled. I open my mouth to answer and snap it shut again abruptly, a flush staining my cheeks as I remember the direction my last few thoughts had been headed. I glance at his hands in his lap and my blush deepens. "Nothing," I mumble, looking away. 

I can tell that he wants to ask, but he respects the fact that I obviously don't want to share. From the corner of my eye, I catch a glimpse of the clock; it's almost six. 

"Are you hungry?" I ask, looking back at him, eager to change the subject. I know that he's feeling slightly hurt that I won't explain, but I don't know how I would. It doesn't even make sense to me why I was thinking the thoughts that were going through my head. I don't know how I could possibly explain it to him with out freaking him out. I sigh. 

"Actually," he says, his eyes lighting up at the idea of food, "now that you mention it"

"Great," I reply, trying my hardest to sound normal. "Let's go see what we can scrounge up."

=============

To be continued

Yes, I know I'm evil. The next part is coming soon, I promise


	2. More than What Meets the Eye

There's something bothering you, Matt

Disclaimer: Everything stated in the first chapter still applies. 

Author's Note:I finally got this done. *huge sigh of relief* Okay, so it didn't come out as quickly as I had hoped, I'm sorry. *hides from (relatively small but seemingly devoted) crowd bearing pitchforks, sharpened sticks and torches* I ~tried~, I really did, but that whole graduation thing and finding a summer job and well, I won't rant here, but anyway 

Huge, ~huge~ thanks to shimmercat who sat up on the phone with me for ~several~ hours helping me revise the final copy of this. And to Rachel Lynn and Musouka who, once again, were wonderful enough to read this through for me. Thank you so much. 

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Shades of Grey

Chapter 2: More than What Meets the Eye

~*~*~*~

There's something bothering you, Matt. Please, I'm your best friend, just tell me what it is

I stare down at him from my bed, wondering what he could be thinking about. He was flipping through a magazine, but now he's just gazing at my wall, with a very pensive look on his face. 

Normally, I would ask what's occupying his thoughts, and _normally_ he'd tell me. But recently I don't know, he's just been so _distant_. I can't help but wonder if I've done something wrong. 

After ascertaining that there really _isn't_ anything on my wall fascinating enough to merit ten minutes of intensive study, I look back at him, deciding to ask anyway. 

"What's on your mind, Matt?" He starts at the sound of my voice and blinks at me, slightly perplexed, as if he's just remembered that I'm here. Wow, he really was "lost" in thought. 

"Wha–? Oh, umm nothing." Is he blushing? He is! This idea shocks me slightly. Matt hardly ever blushes, and then only when he's really embarrassed or thinking something he shouldn't be does he have a girl he hasn't told me about? I raise my eyebrows, considering the idea. That would certainly explain his recent behavior but why wouldn't he tell me? 

"It can hardly be nothing' if you're blushing like that." He glares at me but I ignore him and continue. "Come on, Matt. Something has been on your mind ever since I ate dinner at your apartment last week. What's up? Did you meet a new girl?" I grin teasingly, but he just looks away, not even smiling in response. My own cheerful expression fades. Something is definitely not right. "Did you have an argument with your father? Is something wrong at school?" I hesitate, not wanting to bring this up, but needing to know, "Is it something _I_ did?" 

His eyes are wide with surprise when he snaps them up to meet mine. "No. Oh gods, no. No, it's nothing you've done, Joe. I would have told you, would have explained I value our friendship too much to let something come between us"

There's a distant, almost regretful quality to his words, and I have a feeling I'm missing something, but for the life of me I can't figure out what it is. 

"Then what's wrong?" I ask. He just looks away again. 

This is killing me! Matt is obviously worried about _something_ and for some reason, he doesn't want to tell me. 

I want to respect this, I really do. It isn't very often that he won't share his thoughts with me, so he _must_ have a good reason It just tears me up to see him so distant and confused. I want to help, but unless he tells me what's wrong there's nothing I can do. 

"my father's." It takes me a moment to register that he's just finished mumbling something. 

"What was that?"

"I said, If this is anyone's fault it's my father's.' Although–"

"Why? Did you two have an arg– I'm sorry, continue."

"it would be a long stretch to blame it on him."

"Oh." I raise an eyebrow. "Then what–"

"He asked if we were if you and I were" he pauses uncomfortably, still avoiding my gaze. "He asked if we were together'."

"Together'? What do you– Oh." That's not what I was expecting. "Your dad thought that we were gay?" Matt just nods, still looking at the floor. "That's absurd! Of course we're not gay. Why would he even ask that?'' His dad thinks we're a couple? Me and Matt? Where would he even come up with such an idea? Matt's had plenty of girl friends and I _know_ I've told Mr. Ishida about Emiko. I've told _everyone_ about Emiko. And he _was_ home two days ago when I came over to tell Matt that I had finally done what he suggested and asked Emiko on a date. I still can't believe she said yes I sigh happily at the thought.

But my mind quickly returns to the blonde man sitting on my floor. So why would his dad ask that? I'm _not_ gay. And neither is well, at least he's never said anything, but is it possible he would tell his dad and not me? But he and his dad aren't that close. The whole situation is ridiculous. "You're dad must not be getting enough sleep to come up with an idea like that" I laugh, but even to my ears it sounds hollow, forced.

"Yeah." Matt's quiet statement snaps me back to reality like a hard slap. Why am I trying to make light of this? Something about this situation is really bothering him and I'm _laughing_ about it. Some friend I am. If it was just something his father had said, he'd be laughing with me. What's this really about?

I look down at him again. He's resumed flipping through the magazine and is whistling a seemingly random little tune. If I were paying more attention, I'd probably be able to recognize the tune in the next song he composes for his band, but I'm still trying to figure out why he's been acting so strangely. I know he reassured me that it wasn't something I did, but what else could it be? 

He, on the other hand, seems to be completely ignoring the fact that the conversation just occurred. Why doesn't he want to talk about this? It _has_ to be something I've done, or he wouldn't be so hesitant, would he? Even as I watch him, he starts laughing at the article he's reading, almost jarringly nonchalant. 

"Joe," he chuckles, "you _have_ to read this." I slide off the bed and move to sit beside him, curious despite myself. He hands me the magazine and points to the article, a grin plastered on his face. Just before he looks away, though, I think I catch a glimpse of something else in his eyes, something deeper that he's trying to hide. Pain? Fear? 

Matt, why won't you tell me what's wrong? 

There's more to this than meets the eye. 

=============

To be continued


	3. Backslide

I watch from my perch on JoeÌs bed as he wanders around his room picking up papers, books, and other odd paraphernalia he has l

Disclaimer: I don't own Digimon. Or Matt and Joe, although that would be fun *hentai grin* Emiko, however, is my own creation and, although I can't fathom why anyone would want to, I would appreciate it if she wasn't used without my permission. 

Thanks: To my best friend shimmercat and to Rachel Lynn, who has been the most annoyi--er persistent in her queries about the status of this chapter. You're the best beta-reader I couldn't ask for and a more wonderful friend. 

Author's Notes: Drumroll, please! *glances expectantly at her muse*

Moose: *rolls eyes and pantomimes beating a drum* 

Here it is, the long awaited third chapter of Shades of Grey'! 

Moose: *cheers unenthusiastically* Yay.

*glares* Oh shut up, you. *turns back to the audience* Well, this was supposed to be the final chapter of this fic oops. It's all his fault *points at Moose* 

not really, but it feels nice to blame it on someone. *grins* It took me a month, a whole ~month~, to come up with what I wanted to include in this chapter, and to realize that I couldn't conclude this fic in just three chapters. *sighs* There's just so much I still want to include. So much more pain and angst to inflict on Matt *rubs hands together sadistically*

Moose: *backs away slowly*

I have the next two chapters planned out, so they should come fairly quickly. As for where/when it will end? *shrugs* Who knows

Well, anyway. Enjoy!

=============

Shades of Grey

Chapter 3: Backslide

~*~*~*~

I watch from where I lay sprawledon Joe's bed as he wanders around his room picking up papers, books and other odd paraphernalia he has lying around, slowly returning everything to its proper place. Every so often, for lack of a better place to put something, he'll pile it next to me on the bed; he's garnered quite a collection so far. It's reached the point where I'm not sure I could move without knocking something over. 

I smile inwardly as I look at the stuff around me. Joe is nothing if not organized. Even his messes are orderly. Everything that has gone on to the bed–although it doesn't yet have a place in the room–has gone into a specific pile. Every so often he'll stand in front of me with some precious article clutched in his hand, agonizing over whether to put it in the pile by my head or perhaps the pile by my left hand. I shake my head. Granted, my room's cleaner than the average teenage guy's, but I'm still no where near as fastidious as Joe about having everything organized and in it's proper place. 

Putting down the magazine I was attempting to read, I grab the top item from the nearest pile, curiosity–and slight boredom–finally getting the better of me, to see if he has anything interesting in his room that I don't know about. 

"Hey, Joe, what's this?" I hold up a green file folder full of papers, which just happened to be the first thing within reach. He looks up from where he is kneeling in front of his filing cabinet (organized to a fault; I think he's the only teenager I know how has a filing cabinet and uses it regularly) and smiles. 

"Hmm, that's a good question"

"You mean you don't know?" I gasp in mock horror. He ignores me. 

"What does the label say?"

"Umm I search the folder for anything resembling a label, careful not to spill the contents. "Nope, no label." I can't help but laugh at the bewildered expression on his face. "Oh, no, the world's going to end. Joe Kido _forgot_ to label a _folder_."

"I didn't forget–"

"Rii~ght"

"I _didn't_." He glares at me. I just love it when he gets defensive. "I ran out."

"Whatever you say, Joe. So," I flip the folder open, "let's see what we have here? What juicy details can we learn about Joe from his history notes?" _Why_ am I _not_ surprised? Not that I don't already know most of his juicy details', but it's the principle of the thing. "C'mon, Joe. History notes? From," I glance at the date (carefully penciled in the corner next to the class name, of course), "tenth grade?" I roll my eyes. "I know you don't like to throw things away, but old school work?"

"It's interesting stuff besides, you never know when something like that might be useful." He just shrugs and goes back to organizing the papers in his filing cabinet. I sigh and close the folder. He's not fun to tease when he doesn't rise to the occasion. 

"Ah ha!" he shouts suddenly and I nearly jump out of my skin, upsetting several of the piles around me in my surprise. "I found them!"

"Geez, Joe! You scared the shit out of me! Found what?!"

He holds a sheet of paper up for my inspection. "The labels," he says, obviously proud of himself. "I know I hadn't run out. Hand me that folder, will you?"

I look down at the folder still clutched in my hands, then at the junk still somewhat piled around me. "I'm afraid to move."

He rolls his eyes. "You're just being lazy." 

"If you say so," I say dubiously and begin to shift myself into a sitting position. A stack of book and small boxes next to my elbow teeters precariously. 

"Ack! Stop!" Joe pushes himself quickly to his feet and runs over to catch the pile before it topples completely. "You knew that was going to happen," he accuses. 

I smirk and lie back slowly, making myself comfortable again. "You called me lazy. I had to prove you wrong." I hold out the folder to him, feigning indifference.

"Thank you, he says curtly, snatching it from my grasp. He stalks back to the filing cabinet and plops down, pretending to ignore me and concentrating all his attention on labeling the folder full of history notes. I return my attention to the stuff around me, trying to re-stack some of the things that had fallen when I jostled them. 

I pull a random shoebox towards myself and stare at the contents. "Good gods, Joe, I had no idea you had so many of these." It was filled nearly to the brim with plastic miniatures from almost every anime imaginable. 

He blushes. "My mom buys them for me. She thinks there cute and she says they're cheaper than therapy." That's it, verdict's in, my best friend's a nut case. "Don't look at me like that, Matt, you know it's true. Besides, if I recall correctly, there's a small shelf in the corner of your room almost entirely devoted to things like that." 

"Shut up. I still don't have as many as you."

"Yes, but I didn't buy most of mine."

We exchange glares of death, but, as usual, we can only hold the expression for so long until one of us looses it and starts laughing. 

Still chuckling I move to put the box back where I think it belongs. Just as I'm about to set it down, I notice a small square of paper pressed against one of the walls. Curiosity getting the better of my once again, I place the box on my stomach and extract it. 

I flip the paper over and blink. Written carefully in blue ink is a phone number. It isn't Joe's handwriting, though; I'd recognize his sorry attempts anywhere. But whose phone number would Joe have randomly lying around his room

"Emiko." Of course.

"What about her?"

"What?" I look over at him, startled. "What are you talking about?"

"Emiko. You just said her name." I did? "Are you okay, Matt?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah, I'm fine. Just thinking"

"What's that?" he asks, gesturing to the paper in my hand and walking towards me. 

"Oh, just something I–" I pause as he pulls it from my fingers and examines it. A flash of recognition crosses his face and he smiles faintly, his eyes suddenly distant. 

"Emiko's phone number." He sighs happily. "She gave this to me day I asked her out. Told me to"

I tune him out. This is great, just great! Way to go, Ishida! I shake my head and sigh heavily, not that he'd notice, of course. I was doing so well, and then I had to go and find that stupid phone number and he's off on cloud nine babbling about how wonderful Emiko is without giving a single thought to my feelings. About the situation. Let's not go there. 

Look at him; he looks so happy. Why can't I be happy for him? That's the question, isn't it? My wonderful, attract–intelligent best friend has found someone he's sure is perfect for him. Maybe I just don't want him to get hurt. Maybe if I met her I'd be more comfortable with the whole situation. Maybe–

"Oh shit." Joe says, jerking me from my thoughts. 

"Joe?" 

"Shit, shit, shit, shit, _shit_!" 

"Joe, what's wrong?" I stare at him, concerned. Joe rarely cusses; he thinks it shows lack of intelligence. 

"What time is it?"

I'm confused. "You _have_ a watch."

"So. So do you. What time is it?"

"Umm six-ish. Why? What's going on?"

"Oh, nothing _really_ important," his voice drips with sarcasm. "I just have an hour before my date with Emiko."   
  
I blink. "I don't understand. You have an hour. Why is this such a big deal."

"I have an hour until I have to be there to pick her up and it take half an hour to get to her house which only leaves me half an hour to get ready to go and I have to take a shower and I don't know what I'm going to wear" I think he's hyperventilating. 

"Joe, take a deep breath." I push myself off the bed, not caring anymore what I knock over, and place my hand on his shoulder. "Joe, calm down, it's okay." 

"How?" He looks at me imploringly. "How is it okay? I'm going to be late and it'll ruin everything." He sighs heavily and flops down into the chair by his desk. 

"It _is_ going to be okay. You're not going to be late. Do you need to take a shower?" I look down at him. "You look fine to me." I squelch the thoughts that try to accompany that statement. 

"I've been cleaning all afternoon, I feel dusty and sweaty and gross. Even if I _look_ fine, I don't feel it." 

"Okay, so you need to take a shower. It shouldn't take too long." I reach down and pull him to his feet. "And while you're doing that, I'll find you something suitable to wear. Formal or casual?"

"Casual, but not jeans casual. I have to look presentable if her parents are home." 

"Gotcha." I smile at him. "Go take your shower, the clock is ticking."

"Matt" He pauses in the doorway and looks back. "Thanks." 

"No problem." 

As he walks out the door I head over to his dresser. I know exactly what he should wear. Rifling through the drawers I pull out a pale violet silk shirt and a pair of black trousers. I remember when he bought the shirt. It was when Sora and I were still dating and he asked both of us to come with him to help him pick out an outfit for a hospital function his father wanted him to attend. Sora found the shirt and told him he just had to try it on. He said he didn't like the color, but Sora was very persistent and he eventually acquiesced. He came out of the dressing room with a very dubious expression on his face, but we convinced him that the shirt really did look good on him. Sora claimed that the shirt hung well on him and I loved the shade. He still doesn't believe me, but it brings out the color in his dark eyes. 

Pulling myself back to the present, I realize that both articles need to be ironed. I head to the his parents' room where I know there's an iron and an ironing board and proceed to smooth the wrinkles from the clothing, thanking my father under my breath for my independence and the fact that I had to learn domestic skills such as this. 

When the shirt and slacks are wrinkle-free, I head back to Joe's room. I push open the door just as he turns around, wearing nothing but his boxers. It takes all my will power to keep my mouth closed and my eyes from bugging out of my head. And I though he looked good clothed. Damn. He's not built by any stretch of the imagination, but there is definite definition and I shake my head slightly.

"Here," I hand him the carefully ironed clothes and settle into the chair by his desk, trying to refrain from staring at him too blatantly. 

"They're warm." He looks at me, surprised. "You ironed them?"

"Yeah" I'm blushing. I hate blushing. His eyes widen and I look away. "Well you did say you wanted to look presentable. It's hard to impress people when you're clothes are all wrinkled."

"I Thank you, Matt."

By the time I look back, he's fully clothed, although the shirt is still untucked, and he's digging through the top drawer of his dresser, a pair of socks dangling from his mouth. I can't help but chuckle. "What are you looking for?"

"Mah belph."

"You're belt? Why?"

He pulled away from the dresser, belt in hand and removed the socks from his mouth. "It looks better. So," he stands, "what do you think?"

I shrug indifferently. "Eh, you'll pass." Gods, he looks good.

"I'll pass? What kind of answer is that?" he asks indignantly and I run out the door and down the hallway before he can find somewayto retaliate. 

When he finally joins me I already have on my shoes. As he's donning his own, I glance down at my watch. "See, it's only six twenty. I told you you wouldn't be late. You might even be early."

"I would have been late if you hadn't been here. Thanks, Matt."

"You worry too much. Besides, ten to one says she won't be ready even if you ring her doorbell right at seven. You know how women are" I grin at him and he just shakes his head.

"Now I know why you don't have a girlfriend." 

"Shut up." 

I walk with him to the train station and wish him luck on his date. Not that he'll need it. If Emiko's even half as intelligent as Joe makes her out to be, she'll be head over heels for him by the end of the evening. Which–I have to remind myself–is a good thing. 

As I watch Joe's train disappear down the track, I decide that I don't want to go home. It's always so empty and while that's nice sometimes, I don't really want to be alone right now. I head out of the station and down the crowded sidewalk, no real destination in mind. 

As I walk I watch the people around me interact and for some reason everything reminds me of Joe. The harried salaryman rushing past me, the two kids playing tag as their mothers' talk in front of a street vendor, the two friends sitting on a park bench eating ice cream and chatting even the little old woman tottering along the sidewalk reminds me of a story Joe once told me about his grandmother.

This is so frustrating. Every time I think this little attraction, or infatuation, or whatever, is just a figment of my imagination and that everything is normal between us, something like this afternoon happens. Joe will do something (like wander around his house half-naked) and I'll be reminded of just how achingly attractive Joe is in his own shy, unassuming way. I sigh angrily. 

I don't _want_ to be attracted to my best friend, dammit. I don't want to have feelings for Joe because that means I'm gay and I don't want that. I have nothing against homosexuality or people who are homosexual, but _I_ don't want to deal with it and all of the associated headaches. Telling my father, my brother, my friends Joe. 

How would they react? Would they treat me any differently? Would they hate me? Would Joe hate me? I don't want that. I don't even want to consider that. I don't want to loose my best friend simply because I think I might be in love with him. 

I think I might be in love with him? Oh gods. 

But it's true. All the pieces fit. I've always been "attracted" to him mentally, if that's how you want to put it. He's my best friend. We met when we were young and it didn't matter as much, but there had to be something in the mental attraction department or we wouldn't still be friends. And there's always been the deeper connection. He's always been able to make me feel better, no matter what was wrong. And I'm pretty sure I can do the same for him. We understand each other, we always have. But that's just friendship, no need to read anything deeper. I love him, yes, but as a friend. 

But I've always believed that there's a very fine line between "love" and being "in love", and that line is physical attraction. And recently, although I hate to admit it, I _have_ felt attracted to him physically. It was my father's stupid question that got me thinking about it, but I think it's always sort of been in the back of my mind. 

So I'm in love with my best friend. What the hell do I do now? 

As I'm wondering this, I feel my stomach growl and I realize it's been a while since I've eaten. I check to make sure I have enough for a small dinner and while searching out a suitable place to eat I discover that in my wanderings I've ended up only a few short blocks from my own apartment. 

Deciding that I still would rather eat out than take the time to cook something, I spot my favorite restaurant across the street and begin to make my way towards it. Just as I'm about to cross the street, a familiar figure walks out of the restaurant, arm in arm with girl I don't recognize. 

Joe. 

Damn. Objectively, I do have to admit that he has very good taste. She's very pretty. But that doesn't stop me from being jealous. And I've never liked the ugly way jealousy twists my insides and clouds my thoughts and emotions. 

My appetite is fading rapidly and without bothering to even make my presence known I turn and walk home, suddenly very tired.

=============

To be continued

Hopefully it won't take me more than a month to put out the next chapter. -.-;;

And, as always, comments, criticisms are greatly appreciated (flames will be displayed on the Jyori ML and laughed at heartily). Please, tell me what you think, I'd love to know. ^.^


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